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    Chapter 6 - Page 2

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    fasting is good for."

    "You're right, Samana. Wait for a moment."

    Kamaswami left the room and returned with a scroll, which he handed to
    his guest while asking: "Can you read this?"

    Siddhartha looked at the scroll, on which a sales-contract had been
    written down, and began to read out its contents.

    "Excellent," said Kamaswami. "And would you write something for me on
    this piece of paper?"

    He handed him a piece of paper and a pen, and Siddhartha wrote and
    returned the paper.

    Kamaswami read: "Writing is good, thinking is better. Being smart is
    good, being patient is better."

    "It is excellent how you're able to write," the merchant praised him.
    "Many a thing we will still have to discuss with one another. For
    today, I'm asking you to be my guest and to live in this house."

    Siddhartha thanked and accepted, and lived in the dealers house from now
    on. Clothes were brought to him, and shoes, and every day, a servant
    prepared a bath for him. Twice a day, a plentiful meal was served, but
    Siddhartha only ate once a day, and ate neither meat nor did he drink
    wine. Kamaswami told him about his trade, showed him the merchandise
    and storage-rooms, showed him calculations. Siddhartha got to know
    many new things, he heard a lot and spoke little. And thinking of
    Kamala's words, he was never subservient to the merchant, forced him
    to treat him as an equal, yes even more than an equal. Kamaswami
    conducted his business with care and often with passion, but Siddhartha
    looked upon all of this as if it was a game, the rules of which he
    tried hard to learn precisely, but the contents of which did not touch
    his heart.

    He was not in Kamaswami's house for long, when he already took part in
    his landlords business. But daily, at the hour appointed by her, he
    visited beautiful Kamala, wearing pretty clothes, fine shoes, and soon
    he brought her gifts as well. Much he learned from her red, smart
    mouth. Much he learned from her tender, supple hand. Him, who was,
    regarding love, still a boy and had a tendency to plunge blindly and

    insatiably into lust like into a bottomless pit, him she taught,
    thoroughly starting with the basics, about that school of thought which
    teaches that pleasure cannot be be taken without giving pleasure, and
    that every gesture, every caress, every touch, every look, every spot
    of the body, however small it was, had its secret, which would bring
    happiness to those who know about it and unleash it. She taught him,
    that lovers must not part from one another after celebrating love,
    without one admiring the other, without being just as defeated as they
    have been victorious, so that with none of them should start feeling
    fed up or bored and get that evil
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